


red

by irabelas



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, First Time, Fluff, Mutual Masturbation, Smut, Unintentional Bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:46:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3366560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irabelas/pseuds/irabelas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s sauntering over with questions on her lips and a look in her eyes that makes Morrigan shiver with excitement, like a spell crackling by the fingertips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She’s red, Morrigan notices. From top to toe she’s red; her hair is the colour of fire and gold, together it’s simply a fiery mess atop her head. The freckles on her skin - and she’s _covered_ in them; the spots stretching from across the bridge of her nose to down the sides of her neck and onto her rounded shoulders - they’re red too, small dots of unequal amounts of pigment mapping her skin like stars across the sky.  
  
Even her eyes - the only thing Morrigan deemed untouched from the red is, in fact, also red; one would however, only notice it if one stared long enough in battle, watched the gleam of lightning and fire rain from hand and staff, too intently watching, ready for her own spell to conjure in order to keep her safe.  
  
‘Tis something Morrigan would never do, of course.  
  
Even the patch of darker hair between the valley of her legs is red. Sopping wet from the cold water of the river, the peaks of her breast taunted and pinched until almost mauve in colour.  
  
Morrigan, herself, had a hard time pulling her eyes away from Amell’s form; all hips and gentle curves, bleeding into one another like a story woven without fault. She only pulls her gaze away when she notices the other woman’s eyes - red, she thinks, gleaming in reflection of a low sun - glide over her own form. Appreciative. Friendly, almost. Languidly and fixated on her chest, her lips. Amell doesn’t, and has never, looked at Leliana the same way, despite her being equipped with all the parts Morrigan herself does.  
  
It makes something low in her belly flutter, then ache. It’s an ache she sates in her own tent, find newfound appreciation that it’s far away from the other’s, knowing full well the looks she’d get in the morning should they hear her soft moan and pants.  
  
The only one who sees the flush come morning is little Amell - the Circle mage, protected and knowledgeable, yet daring and so, so reckless - striding over to her. She’s sauntering over with questions on her lips and a look in her eyes that makes Morrigan shiver with excitement, like a spell crackling by the fingertips.  
  
Morrigan had never been one to be embarrased by her feelings; sex was a topic, just like any other. A topic she’d gladly discuss if it meant Alistair turned red as a beet for the next half hour, in the same fashion as it was a topic she avoided around Oghren because then he was hard for half an hour.  
  
She’d chose which one’s her sex reach - it was hers, and her simply alone to do as she pleased, and to share with whom she pleased.  
  
Yet, when this ache and the images of something wet dripping down the apex of a pair of freckled thighs burned on the inside of her eyelids combined with the woman before her - it made Morrigan uneasy.  
  
Morrigan knew; she had sated it just last night, yes? She had her hands if the woman she yearned for didn’t allow hers. Yet, an underlying doubt was still there, her insecurity a beast on the hunt. What if Amell didn’t feel the same? What if she was uncertain, only here to clear the air and saunter over to Zevran, or Void forbid, Alistair?  
  
And now she stood there before her, long and languid and red, oh so red, simpering in a way that had Morrigan’s eyebrows rise.  
  
She knew.  
  
Oh, she knew.  
  
”Tell me, Warden-”  
  
”Amell.”  
  
Morrigan frowned. A frown that only lessened as Amell smiled at her. ”Do not interrupt. Amell, tell me - have you ever been with a woman?”  
  
Red, even her eyelashes were red, a flurry that she only noticed now that Amell blinked. Once. Twice.  
  
”That’s... straightforward.” Amell said, hands clasped behind her back.  
  
Morrigan raised an eyebrow. ”Have I ever given you another impression?”  
  
”No, certainly not,” She laughed, nodding her head and Morrigan wasn’t sure how to interpret the slacking of her shoulders. With a small clearing of her throat, Amell continued. ”Yes, I have.”  
  
Oh, so she _was_ embarrassed.  
  
Morrigan knew not everyone shared her unashamed nature but it seemed common to her that women, especially women grown up in human societies, shared these sort of things with each other.  
  
She had to admit, it did not quench her curiosity.  
  
And so, Morrigan wet her lips - willing it so that her Warden noticed the movement - and the request fell out of her mouth before she could steel herself for whatever response she might receive. ”Indulge me.”  
  
Amell shrugged. ”It’s sex. There’s a beginning and an end, if you’re not shit at it.”  
  
”How eloquent.”  
  
”The rough edges doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” Amell stepped closer. ”Why? Are you curious?”  
  
”Can one truly be bad at such an act? Details seem to be in order.”  
  
”And you would like me to share them? With you?”  
  
The ache was still there, and Void take her, she could practically smell the woman now, so close were they. ”Is there someone else with you or are you posed to ask inane questions?”  
  
”No-” Amell shook her head, taking a step forward. Now, their noses almost touch, breaths mingling in the fresh, dewy air. Her voice is a low and hushed whisper: ”Straightforward. I like it.”  
  
And then her lips were on hers, red and hot, wanting. It was like nothing she had experienced - nothing she imagined a kiss would do to her. A fire searing in her stomach, but Amell was hotter; warmer, like a furnace, giving off pure heat in a way that would’ve been unnatural had she not been a mage.


	2. Chapter 2

_Red_ , Morrigan thought, arms around her neck, pressing deeper and harder, moaning. _Red_.  
  
”Demonstrations seem to be in order.” Amell whispered in her ear, her fingers surely leaving marks on her hips.  
  
Morrigan sucked her bottom lip in response, eager to hear the other woman moan.  
  
”Let’s go, lest we make a show off ourselves.”  
  
Morrigan gave a displeased sound. ”And save that fool Alistair from the damnation of the Chantry? Perish the thought.”  
  
”And given Oghren the pleasure? I don’t think so.” Amell laughed, tugging her along.  
  
As to where, Morrigan didn’t care. All she knew was that the woman she’d been stealing glances at seemed to have noticed.  
  
Soon, however, she found that they were away from camp, shielded behind the thickness of bushes and trees, the shrubbery dark and twisting, willing any signs of the early morning campfire gone.  
  
Amell did little else but beckon her over and then she was lost. Lost in the kiss that followed and the shuffling of fabric as both their skirts lifted up, hands palming soft thighs and even softer breast.  
  
”Here?” Morrigan asked, brow raising ever so slightly as Amell pulled the entirety of her robes over her head. She had seen the woman naked before but never like this; only for her viewing and a very obvious wet spot in her smallclothes.  
  
”Circle, remember? Makes you opportunistic.” Amell said plainly, pulling the aforementioned smallclothes down too. ”Once you’ve done it in an empty closet the ground seems pretty decent.”  
  
”Decent? ‘Tis not the word I would use for it.” Morrigan said as Amell’s hand begun to tug at her clothes, lifting and ripping - much to her chagrin - until she stood as bare as she did.  
  
”Oh?” Amell went on her knees before her, kneeling in the amassed pool of their clothes.  
  
”Quick and imprecise.” Morrigan waved a hand, trying her hardest to imagine that the tremors in her legs wasn’t caused by the other woman’s hands sliding up and down her thighs.  
  
”I’ll show you precise.” Amell shoved a palm towards her, wiggling her fingers with an impish grin.  
  
Had the gesture not been paired with a kiss to her quim Morrigan would’ve scowled rather than moan.  
  
Lips and tongue and fingers joined in, opening her up and swallowing whatever sense of foreign embarrassment and anxiety Morrigan had, replaced with the rolling rhythm of her own hips and the two fingers easing inside her, curling.  
  
Her lover was attentive, if nothing else, bringing her pleasure like she couldn’t do herself. In her lone nights it was done with haste, fingers quick and deft and familiar.  
  
This, was not, in any way, familiar.  
  
As in, the act itself was not something Morrigan hadn’t done before, yet the feeling of another’s lips and fingers leaving imaginary marks on her skin, _red_ , urged on an orgasm faster than her own hands ever accomplished.  
  
The lips working deftly at her lower ones left for just a moment, a breathless gasp leaving them, startling Morrigan enough to look down at the lover between her legs. She was wet and aching, readily awaiting for more. Amell simply smirked, tongue darting out to lick at her lips when Morrigan bucked her hips, meeting the slowing fingers still inside her.  
  
She had never been one for begging, anyways.  
  
Greedy, however, was something she indeed, intended to be.  
  
Her hands grasped Amell’s head, guiding the mouth she longed for back to her quim.  
  
”Eager students make the best one’s, Morrigan,” The damned redhead pulled back her head and her fingers (Morrigan almost cursed out loud this time), peering up at her through heavy lashes. ”Show me. Show me how to make you come.”  
  
Morrigan slid her hands from the woman’s head, a rush fuelling the fire that burned within as her lover’s eyes followed her every move.  
  
Between her ring and index finger, Morrigan took her clit, tapping with her middle finger, easing her hips against the rhythm. The shocks of pleasure were small and precisely measured, her breathing hitching and quim aching to be filled again.  
  
”Tap, no rubbing. Understood.” Amell nodded, bringing her fingers to her mouth, licking off Morrigan’s wetness from them.  
  
Morrigan bit her lip, her other hand joining the one working at her clit to slide a finger inside, working up a fast and frantic pace.  
  
Slowly, the redhead stood up, mouth falling open as she went, practically ogling the woman working herself into a frenzy. Still, they were close, the peaks of her breasts almost touching Morrigan’s own. Her fingers skimmed over tight pink nipples and the witch sucked in a harsh breath between her teeth.  
  
”Right. Both hands? My, you’re hard to please.”  
  
”Be quiet. You’ve got a task at hand.”  
  
”Was that a pun? Tell me it was a pun.”  
  
”Shut up.”  
  
Amell snickered, and still continued on doing so even as her lips touched Morrigan’s own, one that was light and almost dancing - nothing like the one’s they’ve shared before.  
  
Then her hand replaced Morrigan’s own between her legs, working as she had formerly prescribed, bringing hitched moans and hisses from her throat. Not until her own hands cupped the dark red curls between the other woman’s legs did Morrigan hear the same sounds reciprocated.  
  
And still, their lips worked against each other, sighing and moaning and bucking their hips in union. Amell pressed so tightly to her, their breast colliding and offering more stimulation should they get closer. Their bodies press so tightly to each other that both their hands hurt form the the awkward angle and another giggle burst from Amell’s lips, her pulling back for a split second.  
  
Morrigan capture the plump lips again - with her teeth, tugging them back to hers hard enough to draw blood, but the redhead only moaned, swallowing the sound Morrigan made. She shakes, the ruth of her hips against the fingers working her to a climax fast and deft and so certain of what they’re doing that she wondered why Amell had even bothered asking for instructions.  
  
It mattered not - all that matter was that she was good at it, enough for Morrigan’s thighs to be slick and her mind only occupied by the heavy breathing leaving her lover.  
  
Against the shell of her ear, Amell whispered sweet words and promises, the blood from her own former assault trickling down her chin and onto Morrigan’s chest.  
  
”Red,” Morrigan moaned, the coiling in her belly that had been there since their first kiss bursting and rolling, pleasure spreading through her limbs like wildfire, ” _red, red, red_ -” the waves of orgasm bringing her down, her legs twitching and her clit and vulva oversensitive and spasming to the beat of her heart.  
  
They tumbled down, legs too weak to carry them any longer. Dewy grass and the messy arrangement of their clothes greeted their sticky thighs.  
  
”Red?” Amell whispered, her arms encircling Morrigan’s waist, fingers still wet and not doing anything to stop the frantic beating of Morrigan’s heart, ”Is that your favourite colour?”  
  
The mischievous glint in her eyes told the witch enough.  
  
”It may be, given you prove yourself.”  
  
Amell only snickered against her ear, pressing a redlipped kiss to her neck. ”Just give me time, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Because it’s Femslash February and there’s nothing like surprisingly heterosexual lesbians.


End file.
